


A New Road

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Character Death Fix, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Plotty, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan had been dead for six days. Stephen was going to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts).



> For the very lovely fredbassett's birthday, and 'time travel' on my Trope Bingo Card. Thanks to fififolle for the beta.

Ryan had been dead for six days.

That meant it had been nearly a week since the last time Stephen had woken up in a bed that wasn’t empty and cold.

It would have been better if Cutter didn’t currently hate Stephen’s guts. Maybe not actually easier, but, still, better. He could have got drunk on Cutter’s sofa and had Cutter to make him scrambled eggs in the morning. Only now that Cutter knew Stephen had shagged his wife, that really wasn’t on the table. Cutter could hardly stand to be in the same room as Stephen.

Which was only fair, really. There was a reason Stephen had never wanted that particular secret to become known. He wasn’t proud of what had happened.

He wasn’t proud of a lot of things.

Stephen wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself for standing by in the Forest of Dean while his lover died. While Ryan bled out, millions of years in the past; while he was left to become nothing more than a skeleton to be stumbled upon.

Ryan didn’t deserve that. He deserved a _life._ He’d been happy with Stephen, Stephen knew he had been. Stephen wasn’t sure that he deserved to be happy, but Ryan, at least, did. He deserved better than a pointless death, lying in the dirt in the Permian.

Cutter kept going on about how he had changed things. He’d come back through the anomaly into a world he didn’t know. The ARC, Oliver Leek, Claudia Brown and Jenny Lewis. Lester thought he was mad. Almost everyone thought he was mad.

Stephen saw an opportunity.

If Cutter could unknowingly alter their very existence, make Claudia Brown disappear and bring Jenny Lewis into being, then... Anything was possible.

Stephen could fix it. He could save Ryan.

He told himself he didn’t say anything because there was no one who would listen, but that wasn’t true. Cutter might hate him but Connor would have listened. Abby would have listened. He suspected that if pushed, they would side with Cutter, but it wasn’t like they were shunning Stephen or anything.

The reason he didn’t say anything was because he knew they would stop him.

The fundamental rule that they lived by when dealing with the anomalies was to not change anything. What Stephen wanted to do was exactly the opposite. He knew that Connor would tell him he couldn’t know what effect his actions would have, the unforeseen consequences.

Stephen knew that he couldn’t make anything worse than it already was.

Ryan was dead. Stephen’s best friend couldn’t stand the sight of him. How could anything be worse than that?

-

Over the next few days, Stephen began to stockpile supplies. He accidentally forgot to check guns, tranqs, and extra bullets back into the armoury and they all somehow made it into the boot of his car. With the mild turmoil resulting from Ryan’s absence, it was a hell of a lot easier to sneak weapons out than it ever would have been otherwise.

He began packing a bag. Water bottles, purification tablets, torch, matches, knife, first aid kit, multi-tool, duct tape, emergency blanket, energy bars. He wasn’t sure where his travels might take him, so it was best to prepare for the worst.

Stephen was ready on a Thursday. He came to the ARC in the morning, like it was any other day. He sat with Connor while he drank a cup of coffee and let Connor talk his ear off about some comic book arc or something, he hadn’t really been paying attention. He would miss Connor, Stephen realised. He would miss Connor’s enthusiasm. He thought he might even miss how annoying Connor could be, and how he never, ever stopped talking.

Stephen hoped Abby would take care of the guy. He needed someone sensible in his life.

At about mid-morning, Stephen walked out to the main doors of the ARC. He said nothing to anyone because what would he say? _Sorry, guys, I’ve just got to go and see if I can change the past to save my boyfriend, back before tea!_ There wasn’t anything to say. Better to leave before anyone noticed, better to not make a scene.

He would not be stopped.

“Going somewhere, Mr Hart?”

Stephen came to a dead stop. He turned around slowly.

Lester was standing there in his perfectly pressed suit, his arms crossed over his chest. “I do hope you weren’t planning on leaving without a goodbye. It’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“How...” Stephen swallowed. “How did you know?”

“Not everyone here is so wrapped up in their own problems that they’ve completely lost their powers of observation.”

“Are you going to try to stop me?”

“You are a grown man, quite capable of making your own decisions, I should think. However, I will say that, all appearances to the contrary, there are those here who would regret your absence. I hope you won’t do anything too hasty.”

Stephen hesitated, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “Have you ever loved someone, Lester? Loved them so much that life without them isn’t life at all?”

Lester studied Stephen’s face intently, his own expression betraying nothing. “Well, then. I suppose your path is clear.”

It took a great deal of effort not to let his mouth fall open in cartoonish surprise. “That’s it?”

“What did you expect me to say?”

“I… I suppose I have no idea.”

“Contrary to popular opinion,” Lester said, his lip curling faintly, “I am not completely without feeling. In any case, you’ve been about as useful as Mr Temple with a gun of late. I expect this is the best thing for you.”

Stephen laughed a little, in spite of himself. “I expect you’re right.”

“Of course I am. When you find what you’re looking for, your job will be waiting for you. Captain Ryan’s as well, of course.”

“Thank you,” Stephen said, meaning it more than Lester could know.

As Stephen turned to leave again, Lester offered one last parting comment. “Do try to be quick about it, won’t you? I’d rather not have to break in anyone new.”

-

The Forest of Dean anomaly led to the Permian. There was something breathtaking about the landscape, about the wide open spaces and the blue, blue skies. He saw a Coelurosauravus swooping through the air and couldn’t contain a smile, thinking of Abby’s Rex. It was peaceful there, serene in a way that modern England could never be.

That was before he saw the grave.

It could have been worse, he supposed. At least Cutter had been there to make sure Ryan got a proper burial. Stephen crouched down, brushing his fingers through the mound of dirt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Stephen said, not knowing at all what to say and just letting the words gush out. “I’m sorry I never told you I loved you. I’m sorry this happened and I’m sorry I couldn’t save you but I will, I promise you. I will save you, Tom, I swear it.”

Stephen drew himself up to his full height and marched on. No time for sentimentality.

There was work to be done.

-

It took four days of walking through the Permian until Stephen found another anomaly. He stepped out into the biting cold, and then immediately took a step back through the anomaly. Fuck. Should he take his chances in the Permian, looking for another anomaly, or try to stick out the cold?

He had supplies for cold weather. Hat and gloves, his coat, the rolled up blanket and sleeping bag. He could start a fire. He wouldn’t freeze, not unless he got wet or stranded or something.

Stephen got out his hat. He had never thought this would be easy.

-

Three weeks in what Stephen judged to be the Pleistocene. The saving grace was that he was able to find a cave to offer shelter from the wind and the cold, a place where he could rest when he wasn’t out searching for another anomaly.

Of course, the cave hadn’t been empty.

When Stephen found himself the unexpected house guest of a group of Neanderthals, all he could think about was how much he wished he could tell Cutter all about it. Communication was a bugger and largely hopeless, given that Stephen couldn’t make sense of their language and they couldn’t decipher most of his attempts at miming, but they’d nonetheless deemed him not a threat. Stephen shared meals with them, a good deal of meat, and sat by the fire watching them in fascination. He suspected that they thought _he_ was the dim one.

He found the anomaly on an afternoon when he’d crept away while the Neanderthals were on a hunt, and he didn’t look back.

-

Stephen was in London. He knew it as soon as he stepped through the anomaly into a back alley. It took precious little time after that to figure out that he was in a London close to his own time. Maybe a bit earlier, maybe a bit later.

He bought a newspaper to get the date. He was early. Not only had he not met Ryan yet, but as far as anyone but perhaps Helen was concerned, the anomalies didn’t exist.

He was too early. Close, but not close enough.

But… God. He was so close.

There was a pub Ryan and the soldiers liked, near the base. Stephen had been there a few times - he was particularly fond of the chips. Without entirely realising what he was doing, Stephen found himself walking through the door.

He knew it was stupid. Worse than stupid, it was a bloody awful idea.

Of course, chances were, Ryan wouldn’t be anywhere in sight. For all Stephen knew, he might not even be in the country.

Stephen hoped he was, though. A glimpse, that was all he wanted. Just a glimpse. He wouldn’t even talk to Ryan; he knew better than that. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise the relationship they were going to have.

All Stephen wanted was to see him. To see him, flesh and blood. Alive.

He scanned the interior of the pub, searching for anything he recognised. Short blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, a trim waist.

Nothing.

Stephen told himself he wasn’t disappointed. He told himself it was for the best.

A drink. That was what he needed. He hadn’t had a beer in ages and if ever he had deserved one, it was now. Turning hastily in the direction of the bar, Stephen bumped into someone. A tall, firm, jarringly familiar someone.

“Steady,” the someone said, in a jarringly familiar voice.

Stephen stared into blue eyes, his hands on a muscular chest. He muttered, “I’m so sorry,” and escaped out the door.

On the pavement, Stephen stopped, resting his hand against the glass of the pub’s window. He took deep breaths in an attempt to return himself to some semblance of control.

“You okay, mate? You don’t look so good.”

The voice was Ryan’s, filled with polite but detached concern. Because Stephen was a stranger. That was all - a stranger.

Stephen could hardly bring himself to look at him and yet all he wanted to do was fling his arms around the man and kiss him senseless. “Yeah, no, I’m… I’m fine.”

“Too much to drink?”

“More like not enough.”

Ryan’s eyes twinkled. “I know the feeling. Be happy to rectify the situation and buy you a drink…”

Ryan couldn’t possibly know how difficult that offer was to turn down. “Thanks, but I really shouldn’t be here. I’ve got to go,” Stephen said, and went off at a quick pace that was near to a run so he wouldn’t throw himself at Ryan like an insane person.

He should never have done that.

He was glad he had, even if leaving Ryan behind was like a knife in his gut.

-

Stephen left London through the first anomaly he found. Rationally he knew he could have lived there until it came time to do what he intended, but on an emotional level, he knew he never could have. He could never have stayed away from Ryan. He wasn’t that strong.

The one thing he knew he could never risk was his future with Ryan.

He spent a month in the Cretaceous, living every day afraid of dying. The only thing that kept him going was knowing that if he died, Ryan would, too. He couldn’t rely on the off chance that some stupid thing he’d accidentally done would make a difference - he needed to change things with his own two hands.

He needed to _know._

Every day when he awoke in the Cretaceous he said Ryan’s name to himself like a mantra. _Ryan._ Ryan was all that mattered. Stephen would keep going because he had to.

After the Cretaceous came the Pliocene, and then the eighteenth century. In America. During the revolution.

He’d done his best to steer clear of _that,_ but managed to find himself a witness to riots in Boston anyway. He felt it was worth noting that it wasn’t the Oviraptors in the Cretaceous that led to the gash on his forehead and the mild concussion, but rather the disgruntled colonists. (The chunk taken out of the back of his calf was, however, a result of the tiny theropod Stephen couldn’t even give a name to.) An anomaly couldn’t open fast enough.

India was where he found himself next, early twentieth century. Two weeks of the Godforsaken heat and then… the Permian.

The Permian.

Could Stephen actually be so lucky as to have landed somewhere that would help him? It had to be too good to be true. Hadn’t it? There was no way he was anywhere near the Forest of Dean anomaly. Probably on the other side of the world.

Only it was the same hilly sort of area, with the dark rocky ground and the surrounding conifer forests, just like when Stephen had first set out on his mission. Stephen kept walking.

He kept walking and on the other side of the hill, he found Cutter and Ryan standing by a human skeleton, half covered with dirt. The skeleton. Ryan. Stephen wanted to throw up.

But he had found them. He’d found them and now he could fix it, he could -

Ryan had caught sight of him, pointing him out to Cutter. Ryan who, at this point, hardly knew Stephen from Adam.

“Stephen?” Cutter asked, eyebrows creasing together in confusion. “I thought you were--”

“There’s no time for explanations,” Stephen interrupted. “I need you to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” Cutter’s response was immediate and made Stephen’s heart ache.

He shoved his feelings where they belonged, deep inside where he wouldn’t think about them. Stephen’s mouth quirked. “You aren’t going to like what I’m about to do, I’m afraid.”

“What is this about?” Ryan asked, insinuating himself between them. “We’re on a bit of a schedule, and does Lester even know you’ve come through?”

“Like I said, no time for explanations. Please, just listen. I need you to listen to me,” Stephen said, unable to stop the note of desperation bleeding into his tone.

Ryan’s face tightened, his mouth pursing in a little frown. “I’m listening.”

“That man is you. It’s you, Ryan. You’re going to face a creature, one you won’t recognise because it’s from the future, and it’s going to kill you.”

Though he had to be surprised, Ryan hardly showed it. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Why do you think?”

Ryan ran a hand over his hair. “Christ, Hart. What am I supposed to do with this? You’ve just told me that I’m looking at my own dead and decomposed body.”

“Use it to not die,” Stephen said, infusing the syllables with as much force as he could.

“Stephen,” Cutter said, staring at him. “What are you doing?”

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

Cutter sighed, his face pensive. “I’m not saying I want Captain Ryan to die, of course I don’t, but you can’t know what kind of havoc you’re wreaking with the timeline just by telling us this, Stephen.”

Stephen felt a strange urge to laugh, but quashed it. “You don’t get it. _I don’t care._ Ryan, there are two predators. Remember that, will you? There are two of them.”

With that, Stephen left them. He ran, back towards the anomaly he’d come through, not knowing if it would still be there but knowing it was better than staying where he might do something ridiculous.

-

Stephen went back to India. He made a home for himself, passing himself off as a British merchant. It wasn’t a bad life.

How could it be? How could it be, now that every day was infused with hope, hope that he had succeeded, that Ryan would live.

He met a girl, a pretty girl with dark eyes and black hair down her back. Asha. Stephen thought that if his heart hadn’t been taken by another, he might have loved her.

“Your love,” Asha said to him. “The one you dream of. Why do you stay so far away?”

“Because,” Stephen said. “I lost him.”

Asha touched light fingertips to his hand. “And can you not find him again?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I… I hope so.”

Asha’s name meant ‘hope’. Stephen wanted to believe that meant something.

-

When a new anomaly opened to the Permian, Stephen went through. He didn’t understand how time travel worked. Frankly, he wasn’t certain it was possible to understand how time travel worked.

He didn’t know if there would be anything to show him that he’d done what he’d meant to. He didn’t know if he could know except to return to England, which he couldn’t - shouldn’t - do.

But Stephen went through the anomaly. He walked by the light of the setting sun, the ground crunching beneath his boots. He came over the hill and he found the camp, the camp that Cutter and Ryan had set up.

No grave. No dead soldier.

Stephen spotted something half-blown over by sand and crouched down. He picked it up. A rock, with letters carved roughly into it. He brushed it clean.

_I OWE YOU ONE, HART_

Stephen stared down at the letters, tracing them with his fingertips. He laughed, the sound simply bursting out of him.

He’d done it. He’d changed the past.

Ryan was alive.

Stephen had always known, deep down, that he would never be able to return to his old life. Changing the past would save Ryan, but not for him. For another Stephen, Ryan’s Stephen. A Stephen Hart that was him and yet wasn’t, a Stephen Hart that he could never be.

But that was all right. The only thing that mattered was that Ryan was safe, that he would have the chance to live a full, happy life with the man who was Stephen but wasn’t. The man he loved.

Stephen watched the anomaly flicker into existence, the anomaly that would take him into the Forest of Dean, that would take him to Ryan. He turned around and put the light behind him.

It was a whole new world, for them and for him.

**_End_ **


End file.
